A Tiny Change of Plans...

The weaselkin coughed lightly before the goblin. 

"Please, Sir Rizzio, I assure you that it's within your best interests to visit as soon as you're able. Such would be best for business–"

"Did you just assume my priorities? After I just told you to skedaddle?" 

Rizz hopped to his feet, standing atop his rat trophy-turned-chair. "If you represent all of Rent-a-Slave talking like that, then maybe I was wrong after all. I apologize for misunderstanding your intentions."

Folko heaved a gentle sigh. "Thank you, Sir Rizzio. In that case–"

"I'm sorry for ever stepping foot in your sorry establishment in the first place!"

Rizz's [Loud Mouth] skill carried that declaration over the tavern tables and out the windows, sending a shiver down the weaselkin's spine at the same time.